


Coming Together in Three Parts

by Caitybug



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, I know the title may SOUND dirty, M/M, bc I think anything that is bouncing off WS is gonna be a Lil Angsty at least, but angst too, but even then it's not... The Deed, but it's not, carry on exchange, i'm sure this will be canon divergent, post ws, some sexual content in part 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25221688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitybug/pseuds/Caitybug
Summary: Three snippets of their lives after Wayward Son.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 45
Kudos: 137
Collections: Carry_On_Summer_Exchange_2020





	1. Use Your Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [manbun_zukka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/manbun_zukka/gifts).



> Thanks so much for clicking this! I would like to shoutout a few people.
> 
> Thanks so much to [Clev](http://tumblr.com/blog/motherscarf), [Bri](http://tumblr.com/blog/theflyingpeach), [Nena](http://tumblr.com/blog/ninemagicks), and [Jay](http://tumblr.com/blog/adamarks) for looking this over and beta-ing for me. Your friendship and time mean the World to me :).

**Simon**

I’m standing on the grounds, looking up at the top of Mummer’s house. My room.

_Our room_.

“Don’t take long,” Penelope tells me, glancing over her shoulder as I continue to stare. She has to visit her mother, and I would rather not go up there. I’d see that office, think of _him_.

Just doesn’t seem like the best idea. 

I give her a nod before walking in. Why I feel drawn to it, I’m not sure. Maybe nostalgia? Maybe the thought of just getting _in_?

The stairs still look the same when I walk into the building, winding up to the top where my old room lies. The third step from the bottom creaks as I step on it. I see a chip in the wall from an incident between Baz and me.

The memories we left still remain.

The walk feels longer, however. Maybe I am going slower, inching closer to what _was_. I used to barrel up the stairs as if my life depended on it. Sometimes I thought it might... 

_I wonder if the room still smells like my magic_. 

When I get to the door I realize I can’t summon my sword anymore. There’s a spell, of course, but I never cast it. Not that I could, being _Normal_. 

Baz called me barbaric once because of how I got in. 

_I wonder if he still would_. 

I chew my lip and think.

_Baz_.

After the beach, I didn’t know what to say. How to say it.

_The beach, his hair flowing in the wind, the look on his face_. 

_“Why can’t you see I wouldn’t be happy anywhere without you?”_ he said.

_He wouldn’t be happy in Vegas._

_Without me._

_He wants to be with me._

I stare at the door, trying to decide how I might get in. Might be a lost cause, frankly.

_I’m a bit of a lost cause too_.

“Need help?” I hear behind me.

I turn around and see Baz standing behind me. It’s weird to both be here, seeing the Baz that he is today next to the Simon I am.

If the past versions of us could see where we stand now, I wonder how they’d react?

He’s become so much more beautiful since school. 

His hair hits below his shoulders now. 

_He says he needs a haircut_.

I think it suits him. 

“You never did like to use the spell,” he smirks, stepping in front of me. 

_The Baz he is today and the Simon I am today are different from two weeks ago, even_. 

We are, I think, maybe better. 

I wonder for a moment, as he casts his spell on the door to open it, if he would let me hold his hand. 

I reach for it but he doesn’t see, so he opens the door with the hand I was grasping for. 

“After you,” he smiles, holding the door open. 

I step in to see our old room. 

It’s a bit dusty, old, but still the place I called home for the first time in my life.

It was the only home I had, really. 

“Headmistress Bunce says no one has been assigned this room since us,” Baz tells me, walking to where his bed was. 

I stand at my bed looking over at him. 

“How was it?” I ask.

He gives me a puzzled look.

_I guess I should elaborate_. 

“Living here. Without me,” I explain. 

My mouth feels dry. 

“Well, I wasn’t awoken each morning by a bumbling oaf, if that’s what you mean.” He lets out a dry laugh. 

I purse my lips. I should have known that’s where he would go. 

I move to the window and open it. The room was always too stuffy, I always got too hot. 

“I kept the window open, though,” Baz mutters from behind me. 

I pause, not expecting him to speak.

“Must have been cold,” I respond almost as quietly. 

“It was. I had to steal the blankets from your bed.”

I laugh.

“Not like I really used them anyway,” I turn around and face him. 

He is looking at his feet, but I see a small smile start on his face. 

“Why’d you leave it open?” I ask, curious. “This could have been your chance to finally control the temperature of the room. It could have been a proper boiler room.”

Baz looks up at me, his eyes soft and sad.

This is the most we’ve really talked about _anything_. I’m not even sure if this constitutes as _talking_. 

“Snow, why do you think I’d leave the window open?” He asks. 

A question, making me analyze his actions. 

_Baz, you know I’m thick_. 

My chest has this funny feeling in it. I think I know _why_. 

I shrug.

He scoffs.

I sigh. 

“I mean,” I start, taking a step towards him, away from the window. “I _think_ I know why. But, could you tell me?”

_Please_. 

Baz always tells me to _use my words_ but maybe it’s time he uses his. 

He opens his eyes wide, opens his mouth, then closes it again. 

“I grew up in this room with you,” he says, walking to his wardrobe to examine it. 

I’m not quite sure _how_ this answers my question, but I keep my mouth closed so he can get on with it. 

“You got up too early every morning, banged around the room, and managed to make me angrier than almost any other person at this school,” he turns back to face me. “Other than the Mage, you were the most infuriating person I had ever met.”

I frown. This doesn’t tell me why he would leave the window open while I wasn’t staying here. 

“When you were gone, I found myself still waking up at the crack of dawn,” he continues, “I left the window open, I showered in the morning even though I could have showered at night. Because that was what we _did_ . How we _operated_. I got used to all the blankets, I got used to waking up before the sun, I got used to you.”

He takes a step, the floor creaks, I reach out for his hand. 

He grabs it, sighs, and steps closer. 

“Sleeping here, without you, wasn’t easy. I got used to hearing your breathing when you slept,” he laughs and squeezes my hand.

“You always called me a mouth breather,” I say quietly, trying not to break what is happening. Is this magic? My skin feels like it’s sparking, almost as if the magic is back in my body.

It’s not, though. 

My wings beat behind me, almost as a reminder they are still there, occupying space. 

I look around the room. 

The wooden bedframe, the wooden dresser, the way the wood flooring creaks when I shift my feet. 

We kissed in a forest that first time, when it all began, when I _realized_.

When I realized he was just a boy.

_A man._

With all this wood around I start wondering if we can only take big steps around the trees getting involved. 

Have these conversations, speak clearly, _communicate_. 

Baz, I’d cover my world in wood if that’s what it takes to stay in this space with you.

Oak would become my religion, pine my clothes, and birch would wrap us tightly together in each other’s arms. 

Baz laughs. 

“I stand by that name,” he responds. 

A beat.

“I used to think that living with you was like living next to an open flame. That I might be lit up,” he reaches his free hand up and pushes a curl behind my ear. “But I was wrong. I never felt more like I was being burned than that semester I wasn’t with you.” 

His eyes are starting to water at the edges, I reach up without thinking. 

_When someone shows you who they are, believe them_. 

He’s shown me in so many ways who _he_ is. 

I’ve shown him in many others who _I_ am too.

I hear a splash from outside the window. 

“Fucking merewolves,” Baz laughs, it sounds wet. 

“You used to always spit on them, remember?” I ask, wiping the edges of his eyes. 

Somehow we’ve moved closer. 

He laughs again at the memory.

“They fucking deserve it too.”

_Baz, who have I shown you? Do you see me for who I am?_

I squeeze his hand. 

“Baz,” he stops me with a wave of his hand. 

“Simon,” _my name_ , “I missed you.”

_He missed me_. 

He left the window open because he _missed_ me. 

Baz notices when I’m gone and doesn’t like it. 

“Oh,” I say. 

I feel dumb.

Thick.

Like a fucking twat truly. 

Baz kisses my forehead and I close my eyes into it. 

“Simon,” he whispers, kissing my cheek afterward.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for. Coming up here? All the years I fought with him? Existing?

He kisses my lips, soft and sure.

It takes me a moment before I realize that I let him.

_I let him kiss me_. 

I let him take over, show me who _he_ is. 

He pulls me close by my waist.

My heart jumps.

Anxiety.

Fear.

_Hope_.

He pulls back and I look up into his grey eyes.

My heart calms. 

_When someone shows you who they are…_

_Who did you see?_

_Do you like the Simon I am today?_

“Simon,” he kisses me again, I let him. 

_He missed me when I was gone._

_He wouldn’t be happy anywhere I’m not._

_He’s kissing me, holding me, touching me like I’m something to cherish._

It all starts to dawn on me, slowly but surely. 

“Baz,” I say, pulling back. 

What do I say?

_He’s showing me who he is_.

And I think…

I hope…

I wonder…

“Simon, I love you.” 

The floor creaks.

I let out a breath of air. 

Soft laughter travels from the grounds.

“Baz-” I start.

He kisses me. 

“You don’t have to,” he whispers. 

He kisses me again. 

He missed me.

He’s kissing me.

He loves me. 

“Baz,” I push a bit on his chest, stopping him. I raise my hand to his cheek.

I look at him.

His eyes, his lips, his jaw. 

I feel him.

His chest, his shoulders, his breath going in and out.

I close my eyes.

No, I need to see him.

I open them again.

He smiles softly.

“Baz, I love you too.”

His smile grows. 

I lean up to kiss him.

The floor creaks, but this time it’s not me.

“Jesus Christ,” Penelope groans from the doorway.

I look over and see her, a hand on her hip. 

Her eyebrows are furrowed in frustration, but her smile betrays them. 

“Can you both please stop snogging so we can get a move on,” she says, gesturing out the doorway. “I told you not to take long, Simon.”

“Sorry,” I respond, moving to follow her. 

She starts moving to the steps and I pause and turn around. 

Baz is staring out the window.

“You know you want to,” I say.

He laughs and walks over, spitting down into the moat.

“Fucking merewolves,” he says.

I reach for his hand and he grabs it, leading me down after Penny. 


	2. You're My Home

**Baz**

I’m unpacking a box marked  _ refrigerator _ when Simon comes back up the stairs. 

It’s always a production when he does. He’s huffing and puffing. 

“Could help, couldn’t you?” He shouts, putting down another box in the living room. 

“Can’t, putting away the food before it spoils,” I respond. 

He walks in and I see sweat dripping down his face. 

It’s hot today, at least 34 degrees. Not ideal for moving, but we couldn’t do it any other time. 

Simon’s lease was up with Penny, and I could move out of Fiona’s whenever I needed to. 

So we decided it was time to try living together again. 

We practically have been, whether I’m at his flat or he’s at mine. 

Something about it being official, however, fills me with warmth. 

We’ve been doing really well. Not meaning that we don’t fight or bicker ever, I think it’d be odd if the two of us never did. 

But we  _ talk _ now. It took some getting used to, and we are still working on it, but it’s good. 

We work on it for each other. 

I love him, he loves me.

On purpose. We choose it every day. 

He brings me coffee in bed and calls me darling because he knows it makes me smile. I buy his favorite butter and learned how to bake his favorite scones. 

It’s been nice. 

I lean over and kiss his cheek where there’s some sweat pooling.

“Baz,” he laughs, pushing me away. “I’m gross. It’s too hot.” 

I lean back and smirk.

“You’re right, you should probably take off your shirt,” I wink.

His cheeks go red and a big smile grows on his face.

That’s something different we do now too. We joke and talk about sex.

“How many more boxes do we have?” I ask, moving to grab another kitchen box to unpack.

“Two,” Simon sighs, reaching to grab a glass of water. 

“Close, then.”

He nods, gulping down his water.

A bit drips down his neck, and I can’t help but watch the way his Adam's apple bobs when he gulps. I watch a drop of water move down his neck under his shirt.

_ He should definitely take off his shirt _ .

“Go,” I say, looking away. “Go get the other two boxes and I’ll order some takeaway.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, putting down his glass.

The way he says it sends a shiver down my spine.

“Get takeaway from the Indian place down the road!” He shouts from the door, acting as if he didn’t just affect me in the way he did. “It looks good, and I’ve already got a menu on the counter.”

As I put a box of biscuits away I see the said menu and reach to grab it. 

“Curry?” I shout. 

Nothing in reply. He must have already gone down the stairs. 

I call and order the usual, Simon won’t complain. It’ll be hot food in his vicinity. He’ll love it.

I continue to put away food as Simon brings the last two boxes up, finishing right as he closes the door behind him. 

He walks into the kitchen and pulls me close to him.

He’s radiating heat, sweat dripping even more down his neck. His hair is wet with it. 

“Hey,” he whispers. I can feel his breath on my chin.

“Hello,” I reply, putting my arms on his shoulder and leaning down. 

“We’re roommates again,” he says, kissing my lips, my jaw, my neck. 

I hum in acknowledgment. 

“No Penny around means we won’t get in trouble for snogging in the kitchen.”

I can feel his smile on my collar bone. 

I pull back to look down at him.

A bead of sweat moves to the collar of his shirt.

I was going to say something, anything, a joke of sorts.

But now all I can think of is following that bead of sweat into the depths.

I reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it above his head, leaning down to kiss him the second he is free of it. 

He pushes me against the counter, lifting my shirt over my head as we move. 

_ Christ if Penelope Bunce could see us now _ .

She’d have a conniption, I think. 

I move around so Simon is against the counter. He jumps up and I notice that his arse lands on a pile of kitchen towels. 

The lack of friction makes him slide off, but I catch him. 

“Oh fuck,” he says as I wrap my arms around him. 

His eyes are wide as I turn us around, moving an arm to encourage his legs to wrap around my waist.

He laughs and leans into a kiss, wrapping himself tightly around me. 

We  _ just _ make it to the hallway when the doorbell rings.

“Christ,” I say. Simon hops down in a panic. 

“Is Penny here?” He asks.

“I’m sure it’s the food. I told Bunce to wait three days to visit.”

Simon gives me a look.

“What?” I grab my tossed aside shirt and slip it back on before going to the door. “I would like to properly christen my new flat with my boyfriend.”

He smiles as I turn the door handle and grab the food. 

“You know, Baz,” he says as I close the door. “You could always spell the food warm again.”

He’s giving me a look that only means one thing. 

“You’re going to forgo food for sex?” 

“Not forgo completely,” he says, frowning, “just, waiting. Could be an in-between meal for energy.”

“Oh?” I ask.

_ In-between _ .

He steps closer and kisses me, grabbing the food from my hands.

“Which room should we christen first?” He smiles. 


	3. I Choose You

**Simon**

Baz is driving us through the countryside as we leave for his parent’s house. 

It’s Christmas Eve, the anniversary of the day I first kissed him.

In the woods, surrounded by fire, while I thought we were still enemies.

It’s been six years since then.

About five since we were in America (we’ve never gone back. There’s too much trouble in America.)

Three since Baz and I moved in together. 

And one since I realized I wanted to marry him. 

It’s odd, getting to this point in my life. I never thought that was in the cards for me. That  _ living _ was in it for me. 

The ring sits heavy in my pocket. 

I’ve talked to his parents and to Fiona. Even his siblings know. 

That’s new, talking to them that is. In a pleasant and cheery way even. The road from  _ kill the Chosen One _ to  _ yes you can ask our son to marry you _ wasn’t easy, per se, but it’s been a good road nonetheless.

My stomach growls. 

“It’s like your stomach  _ knows  _ roast beef is coming your way,” Baz laughs, poking me in the side. 

_ My stomach knows what I’m about to do tonight _ . 

I’m going to ask him with his family there, I think.

Or I thought.

But then I see that clearing in the forest, the place where Baz pulled over.

“Hey, can you pull over?” I ask, trying not to let the nerves show in my voice. 

He does but looks at me concerned. 

“You alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, can we, er,” I pause.  _ How can I make this sound casual?  _ “Can we just get out for a minute? I need some air.”

He frowns.

“Simon we-”

“I know, I’m sorry, I just… please?”

A sigh, a click of a seatbelt, and the sound of the door opening. 

I follow him and he leans against the car. 

“Can we-” I point to the trees to finish my question. 

He frowns.

“Please just-”

“What’s going on?” He asks.

I sigh. 

Not starting this as I should, I guess. 

I can hear Fiona laughing now, how the Chosen One fucked up his proposal. Daphne would give me a smile, I’m sure. She’s always so nice. But there’d be sadness behind her eyes. 

I take a deep breath. 

I hear the wind, the crunch of loose gravel as I take a step, a bird nearby chirping. 

“Trust me, please?” I ask, reaching out a hand. 

_ Please Baz. _

He rolls his eyes, reaches a hand out for me to grab, and he follows me.

I can feel hesitancy radiating off of him as he follows me, but I don’t much care.

I take a few steps into the trees, and I find myself remembering the path exactly.

He ran into the trees, tears streaming down his face, throwing fire all around.

I ran after him, trying to get him to put the fire out, I kissed him. 

“Simon-”

“Shh,” I say. 

_ We are almost there _ . 

Most of it burned, of course, but it healed. 

_ We’ve healed _ . 

I turn around and face him when I see what must be the tree. 

He is scrunching his nose up.

“Do you know where we are?” I ask, hopeful. 

“In a forest where I’m currently getting debris, cobwebs, and who knows what else on my suit when my family is waiting for us to have dinner.”

I let out a puff of air.  _ Bad decision then _ . 

“This is where I first kissed you.”

“Yes, yes, the day I almost killed myself and you stopped it by being the insufferable nightmare that you are,” he says, looking anywhere but me.

I used to take the quips as personal attacks, but we’ve worked. I’ve learned.

He’s bouncing a bit on his feet, his brows are slightly furrowed, and he keeps tapping his arm.

_ He’s nervous _ .

“I-” I shake my head. I’m such a  _ prat _ . How could I not realize that this might be traumatizing to him? “Look, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think. I just- I wanted to ask you a question, but I can ask later.” 

I take a step back to the car, he grabs my arm, I turn back.

“What do you need to ask?” He says, letting out an exhale. “I’m sorry I just- I want to get to my parents and I was being prickly.”

He looks up at me and smiles.

“Please, ask me what you need to.”

I nod and step forward, closer to him.

_ Now or never _ .

“Baz,” I pull him to the tree, “I was going to wait, but then I saw this and thought, to hell with it. You know?”

He raises an eyebrow.

_ I guess he doesn’t know _ .

“When we were here six years ago, I remember not knowing what was happening, why I wanted to kiss you, what it meant. But I know now.” 

He frowns and searches my eyes for something, an answer.

“I love you so much, Baz. Even when I thought that I hated you, I loved you. I love the way you smell, the way you laugh at me when I put butter on a scone, even how insanely long you take getting ready,” I laugh. Baz’s eyes go wide.

“Wait- Simon-”

“No, no, please just let me get this out, okay?” 

He closes his mouth and nods. 

“I didn’t think I was going to get this in my life. I was raised for this insane battle to end all battles, the idea I’d end up with anyone felt out of my control. So to have you, every single day, someone who I  _ choose _ to be with, someone who  _ chooses _ me. It’s the greatest gift I could ever have.” I feel my eyes start to sting with tears but try to keep them at bay. Baz reaches out and holds my cheek. “You’re someone I love on purpose each and every day, and I want that to be forever. As long as you’ll have me.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out the box, kneeling down.

“Baz,” I look up at him, and realize I’m not the only one crying, “will you marry me?”

I went into this expecting to hear a yes. We’ve talked about it before, the possibility of marriage. I actually picked the ring out based on a list that he said he liked.

Yet my heart is still dancing, it’s racing and nervous.

And his silence isn’t helping.

“Simon Snow,” my heart jumps, “you’re such a bloody idiot.”

I blink.

“Huh?”

“You couldn’t wait one more fucking hour could you?” He shouts, raising his arms in the air in defeat. 

I feel myself deflate from the response.  _ Is this a rejection? _

“I had it all planned out, the dinner, flowers, my whole family is there to watch,” he pauses and steps forward to me, then gets on his knees as well.

_ Baz Pitch on his knees in the forest, probably getting dirt on his nice trousers, this  _ **_must_ ** _ be important _ .

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.

I frown.

“Simon Snow,” he says, grabbing my chin and making me look up at him. “Every time I think I have you figured out, have you pegged, you manage to surprise me. You even managed to surprise me on the night that  _ I  _ was going to propose.”

My eyes go wide.

“You were gonna-”

“Yes, I was.” He smiles and kisses my forehead.

The nerves make sense now. The tapping on the gear shift in the car, being extra cautious of timing, how he didn’t want to detour in the forest. (Not that I guess he would have _ever_ wanted to detour in a forest.)

“Now I’m going to have the unpleasant task of telling Daphne that we’ve already proposed.”

“I was also supposed to propose at dinner,” I admit. “I just saw the road and the clearing and thought, why not?” I shrug.

It earns me a smile.

“It seems my family was going to have themselves a laugh,” Baz says, starting to laugh.

I reach up and kiss him, pulling him close. His mouth is still holding his smile as we kiss, and it makes it even better.

“Can I propose now, please?” Baz asks, laughing softly.

I nod and lean back, Baz holds me in place. 

“I don’t want you too far just yet,” he says, winking. 

I kiss his nose before letting him continue.

“Simon Snow, there was a time when I thought I’d be burned alive just by touching you. I thought loving you would be my end. But it became a beginning.” He smiles and reaches a hand up to push a curl back from my forehead.

I’m trying my best to remember every moment of this. The sound of the leaves in the wind, a squirrel running in the background, the softness in Baz’s eyes. 

“With you, I learned that I am more than a monster,” he kisses my forehead, “that I am alive,” my nose “that I am  _ worthy _ of loving and being loved,” my lips.

“I don’t ever want to think of a time without you in my life,” he says softly against my lips. “So please, Simon, will you marry me?”

I smile and kiss him slow and soft.

A tear rolling down my cheek.

Baz’s hand moving to my back.

The way he laughs into the kiss.

“I love you so much,” I say quietly when I part. “But also, I asked you first.” I smile up at him as his eyes roll and laughter starts building back up.

“You’re an absolute menace,” he replies. He has a smile on his face, though, so I know he doesn’t mean it. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

“And I’ll marry you,” I reply.

I slip the ring onto his finger, and he does the same.

I can’t stop smiling.

“Does this mean I can get off the ground now?” Baz asks.

I roll my eyes and stand up, pulling him up with me. 

My back is starting to itch, the spell is probably about to wear off on my wings. 

“You’ll need to spell my wings again before we get there,” I say as we walk back to the car.

“Nonsense, you’re my fiancé now,” Baz opens the car door, “you can have your wings out at all our family functions.”

I smile and get in the passenger seat. 

“This means my tail will be wrapped around you all night,” I say when he gets in.

“Good, then I can keep you away from the pie.”

I frown.

He grabs my hand and lifts it up to his mouth.

“I love you,” he says quietly. His lips brush the back of my hand. 

I see his ring glint in the light from the sun.

Forever you’re mine.

_ I choose you _ , Baz once told me. 

I chose him right back. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


End file.
